


The Price of Time travel

by Saro2775



Series: The Price of Time Travel [1]
Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Abduction, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Tragedy, Drugs, F/F, Female Protagonist, First Time, High School, Murder, POV Female Character, POV Third Person, Psychological Trauma, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-02-17 13:50:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13078203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saro2775/pseuds/Saro2775
Summary: Not Max, but Chloe has (limited) power to rewind time. She got it from Rachel. She wants Chloe to take down Jefferson and Nathan, to save Max from being the next victim and to give her body a proper burial.





	1. Chapter 1

Goodbye Rachel

"Chloe Elizabeth Price, would you finally wake up for fuck's sake? "An annoyed voice reverberated through her surroundings. Beautiful and clear, oddly familiar but at the same time ethereal.

Chloe's eyes darted around behind her eyelids, yet she didn´t open them. She died, she shouldn't hear anything. That punk-ass bitch Nathan had shot her in a bathroom at Blackhell. Fucked up way to go, dying from a gunshot to the stomach. News flash, shit hurts. The last thing she saw as the strength drained out of her was a blue butterfly. Then, when her eyes fell shut, she only felt coldness and incredible, irresistible tiredness.

"Chloe, come on. I can see your eyes move. "the girl lying on the floor felt a pinch in her cheek. Her fuzzy mind only got fuzzier when she actually felt her head lying on hard, warm floor. Chloe could feel air streaming into her lungs, heaving her chest as she sucked in as much as possible. She could feel her tangled hair tickling her ear. She felt. Seriously, what the hell was going on? She should not feel or hear anything. This was so surreal, unreal. Dreamlike, even. What a fucking weird dream. On a whim, and because her curiosity got the better of her, she opened her eyes.

She saw. Not much, because the light above her was fucking bright, but she saw. After her eyes had adjusted to the blinding light, she made out a figure bent over her. Chloe was unable to discern that figures features though. The shape was...familiar. Her mind raced, trying to process all of this at once. She saw a familiar figure, heard a familiar voice (albeit slightly distorted) and felt stuff. She wasn´t dead - or was she?

Chloe tried to move her head. It worked, and she started to look around curiously. She was in a small, circular room, it seemed. The walls were painted a pleasant beige which contrasted nicely with the floor which was made up of old-looking, maroon wood. There were no pictures on the wall and she could see, oddly, no door or windows. Chloe was confused and more scared than she´d like to admit. Where the fucking fuck was she?

When she tried to sit up, the figure next to her held her down. Delicate and slim female hands pressed against her shoulders. Not overly forceful but with enough force to push her back to the ground. Chloe could only see one hand, a left one it seemed. Red nail-polish contrasted with the light skin. After a second thought, Chloe concluded she was a dumbass - the thumb she saw pointed to the right so it must`ve been the left hand.

"Finally, wide awake. Seriously Chloe, don't scare me like that." The voice playfully chided. It was so beautiful.

"Can you guess where you are?"

Chloe shook her head. She didn't trust she'd have any voice that she could make use of. It felt to her as if she'd wake up from this whatever-the-hell this was if she opened her mouth.

"Thought so. You, my dear girl, are dead. Hella dead. So dead they're actually carrying your corpse out of that bathroom right now." The voice was laden with sorrow and compassion, as if she knew how it felt. Dying alone in a fucked-up place, that is. This wasn't what Chloe noticed, though. And when it clicked and when she'd done the math in her still fuzzy, numbed mind, there was only one word she could say.

"Rachel…?"

Silence. Long, unbearable silence so thick you could cut it with one of those fancy-ass samurai swords. The voice didn't say anything, neither did Chloe. If the blue-haired girl was right about who she was actually talking to, she seriously would have no idea what to do. Rachel had been missing for half a year. And if she was here, with Chloe, in this place…that meant she was dead. Even if she wasn't sure, even if all of this could be one hella freak coincident, Chloe couldn't hold back tears welling up behind her eyes. If the girl who basically made her life less shitty, the girl she loved like no one before, the girl with whom she wanted to run away and start a new life was really dead…

"Rachel, is that really you? Are you…?" Chloe dreaded the answer to her whispered question. She blinked, trying to clear her eyes. Deep inside, she had a feeling as soon as the day after Rach had disappeared. Chloe printing out flyers and plastering them all over town, being completely in denial and trying to force her mind off that nagging feeling were protective mechanisms.

"…Yea. I forgot how quick you can be if you want to." A faint, sad chuckle accompanied these words. Rachel lifted her hands from Chloe's shoulders and sat down on the warm, wooden floor. A couple of seconds passed in which nothing happened. Rachel sat, waiting for a reaction. Chloe felt like zapped, as if a million volt have shot through her body. Her mind started to unfreeze again and she processed the information. Rachel was gone. And yet she wasn't – right now, she stretched and lay down next to her friend, carefully as to not bump into her. Rachel's long, brown hair sprawled out behind her, fanning around her head like a halo. She didn't say anything but merely inched closer to Chloe before she carefully took the flabbergasted, shocked, teary-eyed and most of all sad girl's hand in her own, giving it a long and hard squeeze.

"How? Why? Who? Where? When?" Chloe managed to croak out, not even bothering to hide the emotions encasing her like heavy wool would. Her eyes rolled to the left and she saw the top of Rachel's head and a bit of her face. Beautiful. As always. Rachel's eyes moved as far as they could to meet Chloe's glance before answering her questions.

"OD'd on some sick shit. To keep me silent. Jefferson and Prescott. Some fucked up place in the middle of nowhere; Jefferson called it his 'dark room'. Dunno, like four months ago? Can't really remember." Rachel's voice was matter-of-factly; she had come to terms with it. There was nothing she could do about it anyhow. With concern in her doe-brown eyes, she looked at Chloe. While listening, her face had become a bizarre mask, alternating between crying, screaming, silent fury and never-ending sadness.

Chloe's facial muscles got into motion again, swallowing hard. For one second everything was still before the tough-looking teenage burst into tears, her slender frame shaken by sobs. As if her body moved on it's own, she jumped up, accidentally knocking Rachel away. Chloe charged to the circular wall, and, unsure what to do, how to vent her frustration, she started pounding on the concrete, screaming in anguish and howling like a wild animal. Her fist continued to slam against the rough wall, tearing up skin and leaving red marks (Wasn't she dead? A ghost? Shouldn't she not bleed?). Chloe's throat became coarse and raw from the ongoing exertion, but she didn't care. Thick, fat tears streamed down her face, leaving small puddles on the floor. Eventually, after what felt like an eternity, Chloe couldn't lift her teared-up hands anymore. Her knees buckled in and she sunk down to the floor, curling up in a fetal position. She quivered hard and intensive as her crying rocked her body.

Rachel watched on wordlessly, though it tore her heart apart. As she closed her eyes, she had to choke back a couple of tears herself. The brunette knew how much Chloe had cared for her. She'd told her so, even told her after internal struggles she loved her. Their friendship – or was it more? – shouldn't have ended that way. Dear Chloe, poor Chloe. In her mind, Rachel went back, back, back to the day they met. When Rachel pulled Chloe out of shit at that Firewalk-concert in that worn-down mill. She instantly knew they were birds of a feather. Troubled, upset, fed up with everything. Oh how she had loved spending time with her.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Chloe's sobbing gradually died down. She wiped her nose on her sleeve and slowly sat up, looking over to her equally deceased best friend. Rachel was still lying on the floor, a peaceful expression on her face.

"Where's your g-grave?", Chloe whispered, her eyes clinging to the girl across of her, waiting for any kind of reaction on her face. Nothing had pained her more than asking Rachel where her corpse was buried, ever. Deep down, however, she knew that she needed to know the answer.

Her eyes sprung open, pretty face clouded over with a nasty frown and finally, with an annoyed sigh, Rachel answered. "I don't know. I OD'd. The last thing I saw were those cunt's faces. Then I woke up, feeling like shit. In a similar room to this one, actually." She swallowed before resuming, "Then some weird thing told me I was something special, like a mystic or something like that and that I had power over the winds. I thought maybe those were the last sparks of my existence being completely fucked up by that shit Prescott pumped me." Chloe's eyes narrowed in confusion and blatant disbelief, but she knew from the way Rachel was speaking that she was dead serious, so she let her continue. While Rachel took a breath before continuing, the formerly cozy, warm room grew noticeably cooler.

"But then, it dug up that old story with the forest fire and how the flames went where I ordered the wind to go and all that crap. I didn't do it on purpose, but it seems my screams did something…" Rachel took another deep breath and continued. "Turns out I got some native American blood in me – cliché, right? – and that I'm some sort of guardian and whatnot. Or, used to be. Now, I'm what you'd call an angel."

Chloe almost laughed out. An angel? Mysticism, guardian over the winds? Her flustered, unbelieving look must have betrayed her since Rachel half-smiled at her from the ground, shrugging as if to say I know, right? Sounds like a load of horseshit. Somehow, however, Chloe felt that Rachel was serious. That Rachel really was an angel. Her angel. She couldn't describe how or why, but somehow, she just felt it.

"Yea. I'm an angel. Actually, when I died and got… here, wherever the fuck here is, I was told by whatever the fuck brought me here to keep an eye on you, keep you safe. And I succeeded" Chloe couldn't help but cock an eyebrow asking are-you-cereal-right-now? "Well, mostly. The thing is, I couldn't stop Prescott from shooting you. I don't know why, my power to alter your course suddenly…stopped." Chloe opened her mouth to say something, but Rachel cut her off with a wink and a hand-gesture.

"Before you sass me about 'yea but altering my course and fucking up some breezes are different things, d'uh', I know, it's true. Seems like I got somewhat of an upgrade when I 'ascended' to the 'stage' of angel if you want to call it that." Rachel did the appropriate hand gestures, fully aware of how idiotic she sounded. However, it was true. And she had to convince Chloe of it.

"Anyway, I don't have much time left. I managed to save you by rewinding your wind, heh, get it? The thing is, I'm gonna need to send you back down there, into your body, right before you enter that bathroom. You're going to get a second chance. And I want you to do two things." Rachel had propped herself up on her elbows, staring straight into Chloe's eyes. Her face was dead serious, a look Chloe knew all to well but hadn't seen in a very long time. Chloe had no choice but to nod silently so that Rachel understood she was all ears.

"Save Maxine Caulfield from Mark Jefferson and Nathan Prescott. She is Jefferson's next Victim. He is obsessed with the idea of capturing the moment a girl's innocence breaks and she abandons hope. And he knows that she adores him. Keep her save. I know she's your former best friend, and that your absurdly mad at her, and I can relate. But please, don't allow those sons of bitches to add another girl to their sick catalogue."

Chloe positively gagged. Max had been in town at least from the start of term until the day she got shot and didn't even bother to say hi? Fuck that. For all she cared, her so-called best friend could go to hell. Chloe heaved a sigh. Still, I can't just let her die; even if she was being a bitch. They'd patch things up, they always had. But that was just the first part, so she wonkily stood up and walked over to Rachel, sitting down next to her. Instinctively and without any hesitation, she lay her hand onto Rachel's and inched closer until she could rest her head on Rachel's shoulder. After a long, deep breath, already sensing the answer, she asked:

"What's the second thing, Rach?" Chloe's voice was raspy and coarse from all the crying and screaming. She was feeling better, but just so. It seemed that Rachel had accepted her death, which made things easier for Chloe even though she herself would likely not overcome all of this for a very long time. The brunette remained motionless for a moment before slowly turning her head to the head on her shoulder. She planted a sensitive kiss on the bit of blue hair which wasn't covered by Chloe's trademark beanie. They remained like this for a while.

"Find my body. And bury me properly. I beg of you." Rachel's voice was but a breeze. Chloe's body tensed up noticeably before shaking uncontrollably. Instantly, she was nearly opening the waterworks again. Her breaths got shallower and rigid, wheezing for air she so desperately needed to calm down. Rachel petted her thigh in an honest try to calm her down, but It didn't work out as she planned.

"Please. No. FUCK no. I don't want to see your rotting body. I don't want to see the face I love so, so fucking much, eaten by maggots. Please, Rachel, everything but that." Chloe hadn't noticed how her voice got louder and shriller with each voice until she was yelling again. She also hadn't noticed how she had jumped up from her seated position.

"Chloe…" Rachel pleaded with her to calm her down. "…please, you're the only one who knows I'm dead. Besides the bastards that killed me. And I'm sure they sure as hell ain't going to bury me properly. I can literally hear the call from the other side by now, where those go who aren't buried properly. They'll never be reincarnated. And fuck, I don't want to spend eternity here. So please. If you ever truly loved me, Chloe, do it."

"T-t-that's so f-fucking unfair." She cried again, but this time mostly out of rage. Why the fuck did all the bad things only ever happen to her? Why did her dad die, why did her mother remarry the biggest douchebag in all of Arcadia Bay, why did Max leave her, why did Rachel have to end up dead courtesy of Jefferson and that bitch Prescott.

"A-at least l-leave me the m-m-memory of y-your face, Rach. PLEASE. I'LL NEVER BE ABLE TO LOOK AT PICTURES OF YOU WITHOUT KNOWING THAT YOU'RE DEAD ALREADY, AND NOW YOU WANT ME, YOU EXPECT ME TO OVERWRITE THE MEMORY OF YOUR FACE WITH A HALF-EATEN CORPSE'S?" Her yells and screams, her fury and rage, her sadness and grief roared through the small, circular room with beige walls and a brown wooden floor. Rachel said nothing, she only looked at Chloe, now breathing heavily and sweating profoundly, for a while. After a couple of completely silent seconds, when she deemed the time was right, she got up and turned to face Chloe.

"Yes. Because you're the only one who can put my soul to rest."

Chloe looked at her, dumbfounded. Had she not heard her? She looked at the girl in front of her. Beautiful. Brown hair framing a light-colored face with brown eyes and a cute mouth. Those eyes she was taking in right now were moist, with water collecting at the lower eyelids. Rachel obviously battled herself for composure. She locked her brown orbs with Chloe's, intently looking into the blue ones across her.

"Please."

It was all it took. Chloe swallowed hard and nodded once, barely visibly, all the while shaking ferociously. The blue-haired girl breathed in as deep as she could to stabilize herself before nodding again, this time convincing and assuring.

"Thank you, Chloe."

Rachel started to shudder and tremble, a few small tears running down her cheeks. Chloe did a couple of steps forwards before she fell into Rachel's arms, again crying a torrent. Through sobs and snuffles, through almost painful hugs, Chloe again and again told Rachel how much she missed her. After both were wrong dry, had a headache and were generally miserable, they separated. Rachel spoke up again, sniffing all the while.

"I, uh, got a present for you. I'm giving you my power to rewind time. It's dangerous and you can screw up biiiiiiiiiig time, but I know you. You always, in the long run, do the right thing. Use it wisely and make use of it to do what I asked you to do. And please, as hard as it sounds, don't try to fix the past. It will make things only worse. Around one hour is the most you can go back in time. It's all I can help you with. To use it, just focus on rewinding. For me it helped to stretch out my arm." She managed a weak smile, pointing at an imaginary watch on her wrist. "It's time I went. I'm in pain and it won't go away until I'm buried on consecrated ground and my soul is free."

Chloe nodded weakly. It still seemed completely and utterly fucking bizarre and fucking fucked up. She was tasked with things that she wasn't made for. She was a fucking drug abusing delinquent who was kicked out of high school and now she was supposed to be a hero? Still, she'd agreed to do it, and Chloe Elizabeth Price hated backing out of agreements with friends. She looked back up at the girl now holding her hand.

"So, this is goodbye for good?"

Rachel shrugged. "Don't think so. One day, you're going to die – hopefully of a natural course. And then we'll meet again. Until then, it is."

Chloe felt as if Rachel was slowly pulled from her. It was time.

"How do I get out of here?"

"Just rewind. When I'm out of this room, the power is yours. I won't come back though if you use it in here. Ah fuck, I'm bad at goodbyes. Chloe, I just want you to know that you were the best person in my life. I miss you, too."

Surprisingly, both their eyes didn't water up again. Chloe just watched as Rachel, at an increasing speed, vanished from sight. Before she was completely gone, Chloe couldn't resist. "I love you", she whispered. Rachel was gone as soon as she'd closed her mouth.

Chloe tried her very best not to freak out, and succeeded. For now. She stretched out her right arm and concentrated. A weird pull came from behind her and before she knew it, the room was gone.

And the noise of Blackhell academy surrounded her.


	2. Friends?

Friends?

Chloe was overwhelmed by the sensations around her. The noise was everywhere, it was incredibly loud. students chatting, teachers yelling and lockers being slammed shut were the main culprits, but there were the odd hastened footsteps to and from classrooms or ringtones as well.

She looked around with her mouth agape, dazed and hazy-minded. Chloe truly was back. Rachel didn't shit her. What the fuck, this was bullshit! How was this possible!? The blue-haired girl looked her up and down. Her body seemed fine, no red stained her white shirt and her skin was a healthy, pale pink. She swallowed hard and tried to comprehend what happened, but her confusion won her over.

'Don'tfreakdon'tfreakdon'tfreakdon'tfreakdon'tfreakdon'tfreakdon'tfreak', Chloe told herself in rapid fire. She could feel a headache coming while she was trying to wrap her head around all of this craziness. Her blood was rushing through her body and she could feel dizziness kicking in, which lead her to lean against a nearby wall; she felt the yellowed concrete against her back. It was hard and unmoving, steadfast and basically just what she needed at that moment. Chloe took a deep breath and managed to calm down a bit.

Her eyes focused for the first time since her second chance at life had begun. Everywhere around her, posters for a party of the Vortex-Club were plastered. 'Just bitches and jocks, how befitting this school', she thought to herself. 'Except Rachel…Don't go there Chloe. You just said your fucking goodbyes to her like, what, five minutes ago? Fuck… We said goodbye, she gave me spooky time-travel powers. More of that later though - what the shit am I supposed to do now?'

Her mind wandered off into wild guesses and half-assed plans. If she'd sic'd herself on Jefferson's or Prescott's tail, they'd find out. If they could get Rachel, she wouldn't be much of a challenge. Waltzing into that bathroom would most likely result in her getting shot again, which Chloe didn't have an itch for right now. The principal kicked her out of Blackhell three years ago, he'd never help her, especially if she told this dumbass he'd hired a maniacal photographer as teacher who killed his students. The situation with Nathan was much the same – his father fund the school and the principal surely wouldn't want to risk losing that support. Chloe didn't get along with step-douche, the "head of security" at the school. You know, the same kinda person who's a mall cop and think he has any kind of authority. Also, he did a shit job of it, judging from the amount of blunts lying around everywhere. He'd also never believe her, instead being more of an annoying pain in the ass for her since he'd be convinced she'd lie to him. Fuck, she was on her own – and she had to find and convince Max that she wasn't insane. Chloe sighed; keeping Max safe was gonna be one hella tough task.

Chloe wasn't really paying attention, She just from the corner of her eye saw people flying by. She didn't recognize most of them. Pff, or any at all. Though...wait a second! That assfart Prescott just came out of the bathroom, looking confused and exhausted. He stormed off towards one of the side exits of the school, the gun that psycho brought with him sticking out of his waistband. He didn't seem to have noticed her, or else he wouldn't just leave. Chloe waited until he was gone for sure before she pushed herself off the wall she was leaning on. Her mind wasn't clear still, awash with questions, but she'd f- THUNK.

"The fuck?" Chloe stammered, taking a step back in surprise. Someone had crashed into her, full charge. That person's head slammed into her stomach, her shoulder smashed into Chloe's. The punk girl looked down onto a girl's mob of brown hair, a pink cardigan and a messenger back on the side. With dull surprise, she took a step back but kept her head low. She mumbled a faint excuse before she tried to pass Chloe and be on her merry way. But Chloe wasn't having that. If you make an excuse, at least have the balls to fucking look at the person you're talking to. The blue-haired girl stretched out her right arm and held the girl in place who, once again, in surprise froze over. Chloe slowly turned to her, her mouth a sneer and her voice annoyed.

"Yo, you. If you make an excuse, fucking look that person in the eyes. Some manners, you know what that is?" Yes, Chloe was aware of the irony. Usually, she was the brash person, but after the last couple of hours she needed an excuse to vent some fucking frustration.

x x x

Obviously uneasy, the girl in front of her slowly raise her face to meet Chloe's. Her heart was beating quickly, she was troubled. Just a minute or two ago she'd seen the resident school jerk Nathan Prescott weave a gun around in the girl's bathroom, talking to himself in the mirror. And now she had this dangerous, 'don't-fuck-with-me' looking girl's negative attention. Fuck, this day never ends…

She sighed and her eyes locked with the blue orbs of the girl opposite her, who was still holding her shoulder in a solid grip. The girl was pretty, very much so. But now that she got a good look at her…there was something familiar about her. Beautiful face (even if it looked pissed), big blue eyes, self-assured voice. It couldn't be her, though. She had brown hair and didn't run around in leather jackets and beanies – and she didn't stink of cigarettes.

After another sigh, she was about to open her mouth when the other girl came first. Her face was confused and scrunched up. The girl's eyes grew harder, properly unfriendly. Unfriendly and angry, very angry. She opened her mouth, all but spitting out her next words, laced with disdain.

"Maxine?! What. The. Fuck. Are you doing here?"

It clicked. In front of her was her former best friend, Chloe. Whom she left five years ago to go to Seattle due to her parent's work. Oh fuck this day. Not this, please, not today. Fuck. Never got to visit her, and I've been back in Arcadia for more than a month already. Max was about to answer when Chloe cut her off with a gesture.

"Know what? Fuck it, don't wanna know. Piss off back to oh-so-great Seattle. You excel at running away anyway, bitch." And with that (and an aggressive shove against Max's shoulder), Chloe chugged her hands into her leather jacket and walked away. Max couldn't wrap her head around what the hell just happened, and she didn't get the time to do so as the bells tolled. People poured back into the halls and separated her and Chloe who was, by now, close to the exist. As if she knew Max watched her back, she lifted her right arm and flipped her off. Max was pushed towards the classrooms; a double session of chemistry was coming up.

An hour and a half later and after a dozen of lame attempts by her friend Warren (who very obviously crushed on her), school was over for that day. She arranged with Warren to bring him back his flash drive which he had lent her for some movies; they'd meet later in the school's parking lot. He waved her goodbye, she gave him a friendly nod and stormed out of the classroom. She was more careful this time to not bump into people and made it out of the gates. Usually she'd hang around with her friends around school, but today, she just wanted to hide from people. When she was headed for the dormitory, an unpleasant voice that had been living with her for a couple of months now piped up.

Fuck you Max, Chloe was right. Running again, aren't we?

Shut up, I just need some time for myself.

Bitch puh-lease. You had a couple of years to yourself. Especially since you shot Chloe out. Selfish skank. You heard, you knew that Chloe went through hell because of her father's death yet you kept your fucking mouth shut. And now you've met her, crashed into her actually, and want to run again? Fuck, grow some balls. Speaking of balls, hoes ahead.

The voice fell silent and Max looked up just in time to see what she meant. There she was, Blackwell's queen bee - Victoria Chase and her minions, Taylor and Courtney. They blocked the entrance to the dorm and were chatting merrily, surely slandering Max or any of the other 'uncool' teens at Blackwell Academy. Or planning one of their oh-so-special Vortex Club parties. Whatever, Max didn't care, she had one hell of a weird day thus far. She wasn't in the mood for their shenanigans, she just wanted to be done with this day. Max continued to walk towards them, steeling herself.

That's when something unusual happened; the sprinklers near the door suddenly spewed out much more water than usual. The girls shrieked, jumped up and walked away as quickly as possible, trying to shield their expensive, fancy clothing from more water. Max barely resisted a smirk and shuffled towards the now free entrance door, hoping the skanks wouldn't jump at her. She didn't really mind getting a bit wet, after all, it was just water not acid. Or paint. She'd seen a bucket of paint dangling elevated yet close to Victoria and company. It was almost a pity the handle didn't snap and splatter them with color. Oh well, she couldn't have everything.

Max turned her head when she heard Courtney roar in anger, but not at her. Instead, they were now busy chewing out poor Samuel, the groundskeeper of Blackwell. He was nice, if weird, and not the brightest person around, mean as it sounded. He made excuses in his own, weird voice, but the trio didn't care.

She was contemplating stepping in to stop the harassment, but in reality, max was just happy to get into the dorm, so she shot an apologetic glance to Sam and quickly scurried through the door, feeling safe and secure when she heard the click behind her. The tension she'd unknowingly built up started to ease and left while she took the stairs to the left. By the time she'd reached the door to her dorm room, the tension was gone completely.

Good, let's snatch that drive, give it to Warren and then let's chill out. Should tell him where to meet, though.

[Max]

[Hey Warren, got your flash. Can we meet in the parking lot? TTYL]

Max headed for her desk where she knew she put the stick. Luckily, it was still there. The last thing she'd need now was if someone stole a stick that wasn't even hers. Max snatched it, put it into her bag and headed for the door. As soon as she did so, however, her phone vibrated. Max had received a message and when she saw who it was from, she couldn't ignore it.

[Chloe]

[Max. We needa talk. swing your bony ass to the lighthouse. ]

Max tensed up. This time she actually felt it. She felt a feeling surge through her body, but she wasn't sure what to make of it. It was a weird mix between fear, anxiousness and a touch of happiness. Though she knew and remembered one thing about Chloe - don't keep her waiting if she's pissed at you, you're making it worse. And while it was true, Max was safe on Blackwell-grounds, she didn't want to be enemies with her former BFF.

Her inner voice came back.

Oh my fucking god, can you for once not be the biggest pussy around?

As much as she loathed thinking about it, Max knew it - another part of herself?- was right. She was too introverted, to cowardly for her own good. She could at least try to stand up for herself and clarify things with her former best friend, she'd never hurt her...right?

Max shuddered and finally left her dorm room. plugging her ears with her headphones and zoning out a bit. Music always helped her relax. Her stride grew a bit quicker when she reached the door to the stairway - hopefully Victoria wasn't there still. She quickly walked down the stairs and all but barged out of the dormitory exit. As luck would have it, the bitch-squad was gone. Max exhaled the breath she'd been holding and made way for the parking lot which was located past the main building.

On her way to there, however, she heard that she was about to happen upon an unpleasant scene. A voice hacked into poor Kate Marsh, one of the few dear friends she'd made thus far at Blackwell. Max didn't hear much, though she heard the word drugs being thrown in. Katie and drugs? That was ridiculous! Creeping towards the gate, she could see the poor girl being intimidated by, ironically, the chief of security, Mr. Madsen. Max never liked him, he was a completely paranoid asshole. Rumor had it he was a soldier who mentally collapsed and was discharged. Now, he was the chief of security and did a horrible job of it; he believed that every student dealt drugs and was criminal. Max could see him walking closer to Kate, intimidating her to the brink of tears, judging from the way her voice cracked. Poor girl.

With a sigh, Max decided to take heart and step in - after she'd taken a picture to actually prove bullied Kate. She took aim with her seeker and with a satisfying click, her old-school (or hipster, depending who you asked) instant picture camera spit out a picture. Max gave it a quick shake to develop the photograph before she put both things in her bag. She stepped forward and called out with as much courage and confidence she could muster:

"Hey! Leave her be!"

Madsen turned to her and Kate looked past him. He actually backed off a step when he gave Max his entire attention, a snarl on his moustache'd lips and angry expression on his hardened face.

"Back off, missy. Ain't your business."

"It actually is. Leave Katie alone, she's done nothing wrong!" Her voice was more confident than she'd expected. She could feel the adrenaline rush through her body, she never was good at standing her ground. Max turned her head to the intimidated girl.

"Yeah? Don't care, I'm here on official campus business and won't let some teen-punk stop me from doing my job. That girl here knows stuff about what drug-related shit happened at the last party of that so-called Vortex Club, but she refuses to tell me." He shot glares between Max and Kate, disapproval lacing his every word. Madsen took a step towards Max, trying to play his game on her as well by lumbering over her - which would've been more impressive if he was more than ten centimeters taller than her. After standing right in front of her, he tilted his head to look Max in the eye in an attempt of intimidation.

"Maybe you know something, missy? Whatcha hiding? Well?" His eyes locked with hers, but she refused to budge. Instead, Max was fiddling around with her bag quietly until she found the a flick of her wrist, she took the picture out and held it firmly but easy to see.

"I'm not hiding anything other than proof I have that you harassed Kate. Could you leave her be now, pretty please? Or do I need to see the headmaster about this?" She felt a lot braver than she ever had; Max had absolutely no idea where this confidence comes from, but it felt good.

The man in front of her alternated his glances between Kate, Max and the picture. She could see he was thinking about snatching it, but obviously decided against it when he, with a grumble, took back a couple of steps.

"I'll remember this, missy. You just made a mistake.", he added after shooting Max as threatening a look as possible before stomping away. Max waited until he was completely out of view before she walked over to Kate.

"Man, what an asshole.", she said with anger in her voice. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah. Yes, I'm you so much, Max." Kate sighs in relief.

"What did he want with you anyway? Are you in any kind of trouble?" Concern laced Max' voice, more than she wanted to let slip.

"It's a longer story…I'll tell you another time, right?" Kate flashes her a small smile, obviously sincerely grateful for the help but didn't pursue the matter further. Poor Katie seemed more withdrawn than usually...

"Yes, please do. I don't have much time right now, got places to be." Max sighed before she flashed Katie an earnest, gentle smile. "Hey, don't worry about Mr. Dickhead too much, he's just an asshole. I'll always have your back if I get the chance. Listen Kate, I'm really sorry, but I gotta run, it has been a weird ass day and it's only about to get weirder."

Kate squeezed her arm gently before she waved Max goodbye. The young photographer waved back and hurried along, across campus. The sun was standing low but it was still pleasantly warm. Lots of people were out, but she didn't have the time to stand around and talk with them. She just wanted to give Warren's flash drive back, maybe score a ride to the lighthouse in his not-new new wheels he'd bragged about so much so she wouldn't take as long to get there. Also, she'd make him happy and he'd finally be silent about it. Max had barely reached the stairs to the parking lot when she already heard Warren call out to her.

"Yo Maximus, here!" He was leaning against the hood of his car, looking all proud of it. Max got that he was proud, it was his own car. Even though it was an old, beaten-up hatchback. But hey, it had four wheels… She hurried over to him while checking for incoming, her hand already digging in her bag.

"Hey, Warren. How d'you do?" She asked. Max handed him the stick which he accepted with a nod and a smile.

"I'm fine. Boring day, nothing much. By the way, how did you like the movies on the stick?"

Sighing, Max declined. Instead, she began to tell him about her completely bizarro day. She knew that Warren always listened carefully and was genuinely shocked when Max told him about Nathan waving that gun about in the bathroom. They also shared a somewhat gloating snicker about Victoria's misfortune and erupted in a joined flurry of increasingly funny insults to Madsen.

"And now I got to get to the lighthouse to meet my former best friend who I accidentally bumped into today and who is royally pissed at me", Max finished her recap of the day. She sighed again, realizing how weird this all was.

"I can give you a lift, if you want? It's a long way there and it sounds like you're in deep crap already, so better not add tardiness to the list", Warren said. He bounced off the hood and rounded the car, opening and holding open the passenger's seat door for Max.

"Thanks, I really appreciate it!" Max hurried over to the door. She flung herself in the worn-out seat and was hit by that classic 'fourth-hand-car'-smell. She didn't mind much though, it had its own charm. The driver seat door opened and Warren hopped in. One, admittedly slick, movement later, he was belted and had the engine humming. Max affirmed she was good to go and they drove out of the parking lot.

A minute later, Nathan Prescott stormed out of the bathroom, a torn selfie in hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Short and humble - hope you like it, as with last time, constructive criticism is much asked for!


	3. Obstacles

**Obstacles**

 

Cigarette number six in half an hour was spent and Chloe fished for a new one. Her fingers were shaking from her chain-smoking but she didn’t care. The punk-looking girl lit the ciggy and sucked greedily, biting smoke filling her windpipe and lungs. She looked at the ocean in front of her, bathed in golden, late afternoon sunlight.A handful of boats was out in the sea, which wash ever so often rocked by small waves. Chloe used to come here a lot when times were better. With Max. And later with Rachel, but she didn’t think of her right now.

Ah fuck. Why  _ her _ ?

Of all the people in the entire goddamn world, the last person she wanted to see was Maxine fucking Caulfield. Bitch left her alone when she needed her the most yet she was back in town for at least one month and didn’t even have the human decency to throw her a text. Chloe grunted angrily - not that it’d matter, anyways.  _ Five years _ of nothingness. At first they tried to keep in touch, but over time Max just forgot about her. Fuck, Chloe even started writing letters to an imaginary Max so she kept sane. But no, she all but left Chloe all on her own after her dad had died. Maybe she knew, too, that Chloe had maybe developed feelings for her best friend. And now she was back, surely hoping she could just waltz back into her life like the last fucking five years didn’t happen.

Hah. Yea, no.

Chloe finished her cigarette. She stood up and kicked a stray, empty bottle down the slope atop which the lighthouse was built. She watched with childish satisfaction as it shattered on the pointy rocks. She knew how it felt, shattering. Chloe heaved a heavy sigh and let her mind wander.

Not only did her dad die, Max leave and Rachel die as she just a couple of hours ago learnt, her mother had married one hell of a motherfucking asshole. He hit her, told her again and again that she was a loser and spied on her. He was former military or some shit and demanded discipline at home. Sucked for him that Chloe couldn’t give less shits about what he wanted. 

The blue-haired girl sighed and walked towards the edge of the cliff, blocked off by a fence. She leaned against it and looked out into the ocean. Not for the first time she thought about jumping. No one gave a rat’s ass about her anyway. She could be with Rachel again and her mother would be happy with step-douche. But no. Chloe didn’t want to die that way. She wanted to die a death as painful and undignified as her life had been. Jumping would be quick - but would still hurt like a bitch.

But she couldn’t do it. Chloe was a coward - and she had a job from Rachel. She still wasn’t sure if she wasn’t tripping on some shit she tossed in the night before, but fuck that.

And also,  _ fuck _ Max. Saving  _ her _ . Rachel tasked her with saving that cunt that abandoned her. Fucking hell, she  _ really _ lost the lottery of life.

Just as she was checked her phone for the time and lit yet another cigarette, the traitor arrived. She still recognized Max’ walking pattern. Weird memory, huh.

Max stopped moving a few feet away from Chloe and opened her mouth a couple of times, like a fish out of water. Finally, she found the courage to speak.Her heart was racing, her palms were sweaty and she was feeling sick. Max knew how Chloe was when she was angry, and she never wanted that wrath directed against her. But there was no backing out.

“H-hey. I, uh, got my bony ass over here.”

Max could see Chloe’s shoulders slumping. The taller girl stood up straight, and turned around. Her face was...difficult to read, but even from their distance, Max could see, could feel the seething anger drilling into her.

“Don’t  _ hey _ me. Let me just cut straight to the chase.” Chloe started walking towards Max, each step as imposing as possible. Her next five words were emphasized by her heavy trodding until she stood right in front of Max. 

“What do  _ you _ want here?” She blew cigarette smoke into Max’ face, grinning a cruel grin as the girl in front of her coughed. Max’ eyes teared up and she looked away. A long moment passed until she answered the question. Hesitantly and very quiet.She expected hostility, but not to that extent.

“Blackwell. Got accepted into Jefferson’s class. I'm here to study.” Her head hung low, she ground her teeth and braced herself for the next verbal attack.Instead, Chloe tersed up for a moment.  _ Fuck, she’s in that motherfucker’s class. Can you for once not make things difficult for me, universe? What’s next, a tornado coming and destroying the city?  _ Quickly putting aside any thoughts that stopped her angry momentum, she huffed. Chloe all but spat her next words with as much aggression as possible.

__ _ “ _ Course you were. Of  _ course _ you came here to suck that bastard’s cock for a year or two and just vanish. As usual. Maxine Caulfield, mistress of fucking off. Course you never, hm, I don’t know, considered to stopping by or even dropping me a text? Seattle isn't that far away and I may be broke but I still have a phone.” Max was about to open her mouth to defend herself, but Chloe was in a flurry and cut her off. “Nanana, I speak, you shut the  _ fuck _ up. You didn't message me, not once, not even after I tried to stay in touch? After the monologues I wrote you like the fucking lunatic I think I’m becoming? Not even birthday cards with best wishes? Seriously Max, fuck off back to Seattle. Be glad that I’m such a nice person or I’d beat the  _ shit _ out of your skinny body. You disgust me. If I see your shitface around here one more time, You’ll be waking up in a hospital the next day.”

Chloe took one more pull of her cigarette, flicked it into Max’s face, where it collided with her cheek, and walked off, intentionally bumping into the girl in front of her. Max shook like leaves in autumn wind now, trembling all over from the exposure to rage, anger and humiliation. Chloe walked about four steps until she heard a sniff and one single muttered word.

   “Sorry.”

That's all Max could say before a fit of sobbing wrecked her body, she fell to her knees and began to bawl.

Chloe clicked her tongue in annoyance, the flames of loathing inside her reduced to a glimmer. She'd said what she wanted, so the fuel was gone. Chloe contemplated for one second to go back and comfort Max, cause Chloe hated to see her like this, always had, but she decided against it. Max'd earned it. And that was just a speck of pain compared to Chloe's last five years.

She shoved her hands inside the pockets of her leather jacket, turned around and walked off, Max’s increasingly loud wailing serving as a backdrop.

\----

It felt like hours have passed. Couldn't have been more than one, though. The sun was still setting and the birds were still tweeting but it felt like an eternity.

A while after Chloe left, Max had managed to calm down. With still shaking hands, she took out her phone and texted Warren to come pick her up. Thankfully, he did. He tried to cheer her up after he noticed her puffy, red eyes, but failed. Max was silent for most of the ride, the sole exception being declining Warren's offer of treating her to dinner. He was visibly disappointed but didn't press the matter. Warren's a good guy and friend, but Max never thought of him like  _ that _ . They reached Blackwell, Max thanked him again and headed off to the girl's dorm.

Her head hung low and the indie music she was listening to while walking fit her situation and mood perfectly. Could she ever patch things up with Chloe? She ignored her surroundings, ignored the curious glare Victoria shot her until she was halfway down the hall. So lost in thought and distraught was she that she didn't even notice Kate coming out of her room. The blonde futilely tried to get her attention and, when she failed, decided to opt for a tap on Max's shoulder.

Max jumped but managed to suppress a slipping curse when she realized who had startled her. Shutting down her music and taking the buds from out of her ear, Max turned to Kate. She was looking a bit better than before but still seemed quite… Downtrodden. Still, they exchanged a small smile before Max spoke up, thankful for the distraction from her own woes.

    “Hey, Kate. Are you better?” Max remembered their encounter earlier that day. That asshole Madsen had really ripped into her.

    “Yeah. I'm a lot better than before. Thanks again for your help earlier.” Kate managed an honest smile for a moment before her pretty features clouded over in earnest concern. “Your eyes are all puffy and red, though, did you cry? Want to talk about it?” 

Sweet Kate. Always there for anybody. Max didn't really want to burden Kate with it all, but she figured it'd be nice to get it off her chest. Hesitantly, Max nodded. 

     “Yeah, actually. If you could make some time…”

Kate's face lit up, she was always glad when she could help, Max knew as much about her.

     “Of course! Between us, Dana wanted me to go to a Vortex Club party with her, but I'm not feeling like it. It's going to be full of people who I can't stand and who can't stand me. Like, not at all. Lo and behold, my alibi arrives.”

Max was surprised. She knew Kate and Dana were friends, but she'd never have guessed that Kate of all people would be invited to one of the Club’s parties. Still, Max was glad her friend made time for her.

   “Won't Dana get mad?” The last thing Max wanted was to drive a wedge between the two of them. Katie didn't have it easy at Blackwell to begin with, her character was too demure and her strong faith put her into an outsider's position.

Kate, however, uncharacteristically shrugged. “I don't know. Surely she won't be pleased that I decided against going all of a sudden, but if I tell her I helped you out and put into practice my job as a devout member of the church, out to watch out for the scared sheep, she'll understand.” Kate flashed Max an even more unusual mischievous smile before continuing. “So, let's head out for tea and tell me what happened?” 

Max shook her head. “Honestly, I'd rather stay in for the time being. I can tell you in my room?” 

   “Sure.” 

The two of them walked down the rest of the hall and reached Max's door. She unlocked her room and let her friend in. Her kingdom was not desperately tidy, but it was spacious enough that the odd stray clothing article didn't account for much. Max made a gesture towards her couch and Kate took a seat. The host herself walked over to her desk, plopped down into her office chair and turned around to face Kate who curiously looked around her room; she'd never been in it before.

   “I like the Polaroid-wall, it's a great touch. I also didn't know you play the guitar?”

   “Yea, I'm full of surprises.” Max let her glance wander through her room. It was comfortable and she was proud what she made of it since she got to Blackwell. 

Her guest turned to her, an encouraging smile on her face.

   “So, Max, what's bothering you?”

After a heavy sigh, Max began to tell her. “Well, I used to live in Arcadia Bay five years ago before I left for Seattle cause of my parent's jobs. I was best friends with this girl, Chloe Price. Things were fine until the day when her dad passed after a car crash. They were extremely close and she was completely devastated. To make things worse for her, I had to leave shortly after. I tried to stay in contact, really did, but it didn't take long until my new life in Seattle caught up. Anyway, years have passed and I'm back now. The thing is, I couldn't muster the courage to contact her. So I've been in town for more than a month now without her even knowing, but today we literally crashed into each other. It wasn't… Pretty. Chloe texted me later that day and demanded we meet at the lighthouse, which is why I bumped into you earlier, I was on my way there, but once I was there she just shot insults and a cigarette in my face and stormed off. And I sank down on the floor and cried and I don't know what to do, I wanna patch things up but I don't know how. And yea, that's it. She also threatened me, saying I'd wake up in the hospital next time I meet her.”

Kate had listened intently and didn't interrupt Max. She took a moment to collect her thoughts before she tried to give the upset girl in front of her some careful advice. It is always hard to recommend someone to deal with someone one does not know, after all - especially not if that someone was massively angry.

    “Well, it seems to be a dire situation you're in. If I were you, I would simply try and text her. Ask her how she's been lately. What's on her mind. Just small attentions. She probably will be aggressive, judging from what you've told me just now. If she reacts at all, that is. but it might be that after a while, she'll start replying in a more friendly way.”

Max made a disbelieving grunt-like noise. “You think?”

    “I guess I do. If things get better, then yay. If stuff goes down the drain, at least you tried and have to hide away in your dorm for a couple of days so she won't be able to hurt you. I thi-” Kate's phone started to buzz and she held up one finger to signal a pause before picking up the phone. “Yes?... Hey, Dana… No, sorry, I can't come… Got to take care of Max, she's really upset… No, really, I can't. She's crying and all… Yeah… Really sorry, you have Brooke with you at least…Next time, promise. Have fun.” 

Kate ended the call with a sigh - Dana was upset. Max looked at her, eyebrow cocked with surprised bemusement twinkling in her eyes.

   “Did Kate Marsh just lie? What's that about me crying?”

   “Well, you  _ did  _ cry. I'm just mixing up the timeline. Anyway, back to topic. I think that Chloe doesn't really hate you. She's probably shocked, which can easily translate into anger. My recommendation would be to just let her know you're back in town and you're not going anywhere soon. And be earnest and upfront about your desire to patch things up.”

Max sighed, but nodded. Kate was usually right. She thanked her for advice on that and then lead their conversation down a different route. 

When Kate left her room, it was past ten.

xXx

**[Steph]**

**Stop being so hateful. She came, after all. Shows she wants to patch things up.**

 

Chloe took a swig from the rum bottle next to her. Her ira had vanished for now, but she still stubbornly held to the belief that she'd done nothing wrong. When she'd gotten home after she vented her anger by smashing shit in the junkyard over and over again (her rewind powers were awesome!) she dropped onto her bed, unscrewed a bottle of booze and smoked pot. She felt like shit and the wailing of Max still rang in her ears. Her phone vibrated as her old friend Steph texted her. They knew each other from Chloe's Blackhell days and even though Steph now lived away of Arcadia with her girlfriend, they still had somewhat regular contact. The blue haired girl had always liked and trusted Steph, but she never felt about her the same way she felt about Max or Rachel. She studied psychology now. Chloe snatched her phone and read the message. 

 

**[Steph]**

**[Seriously Chloe, she fucked you up but she's trying to make amends. IIWU, I'd give her another chance.]**

 

Chloe made a disapproving noise. She knew she was irrational and childish, but she was horrible at being forgiving.

 

**[Chloe]**

**[Yea no bitch can go to hell.]**

 

**[Steph]**

**[You look for Rachel but hate Max even though she's come back? The two pulled nearly the same shit. Don't BS me.]**

 

After reading the name, Chloe felt a sharp sting in her heart. All day she'd managed to not spend a minute thinking about Rachel. She instantly felt the desire to scream and cry and rampage building up, but she managed to numb it with a hit of her bottle. The cheap, brown rum ran down her throat, and scorched her insides. Thank  _ fuck _ for booze. She took another swig and the liquid did its work, making it easier to push Rachel to the back of her mind. And it made answering Steph easier.

 

**[Chloe]**

**[Yea it almost is but I still never ever wanna see Max's fucking face again. and I ain't apologizing what I said cuz I meant every word. bitch can gtfo for all I care. Im done with her].**

 

**[Steph]**

**[Nope. Y’ain't. If your were, you wouldn't be so upset about her. For now, just accept that she's back and if she reaches out, don't ignore her. Listen, g2g, evening class is starting soon. Ttyl.]**

 

**[Chloe]**

**[Yea, thanks for your time Steph. Ttyl, my greetings 2 to your GF.]**

 

Chloe dropped her phone next to her and took another gulp of rum. Her head lulled to her right and she saw the scale that Max and get used to measure their heights when they were kids. Long gone were those times. Her eyes wandered down the walls, but got glued to her closet. There still were some of Rachel’s clothes in there. Chloe swallowed the lump in her throat and looked away. 

Taken by a spontaneous desire for music, she fished out her headphones from her pocket and plugged them into her phone. Her mobile’s music player automatically jumped to life and began to play a song. Chloe closed her eyes, snatched the bottle from her side and took another gulp. The music and alcohol washed over her and Chloe felt relaxed. She’d gotten really good at forcing herself to relax and ignore troubles that came her way. 

Chloe pushed away all the crazy of the day, the hurt about Rachel and her outbursts against Maxine. She pretended she didn’t hear her mother call her from downstairs or her. Her stomach growled, but she paid it no heed. Another gulp. The burn was all too familiar. Like the burn of a fresh cut was. Not the wrists, that’d be to obvious. The crook of her left arm. Why else would she wear a long-sleeved leather jacket all year round? Chloe sighed and counted to ten slowly and silently as she was feeling the urge to cut again. 

Not now, not when her mom was in the house. 

Instead, she curled up on her right, hugging her knees to her chest and tried to fall asleep, but she couldn’t shut off her brain. 

_ Escaping to Dreamland, are we? You got nothing to do anyway, you’re a borderline alcoholic, substance abusing highschool dropout without an education. You’re a slob, a fucking smooch. No job, no future. Bitch, you even whored yourself out. Like that night Nathan fucked you up and took sick pictures of you. Y’ hooked up with him to score some quick cash, but you managed to get you, me, us, dosed with some shit. We’re lucky you managed to do one fucking thing right when you kicked him in the balls while we ran. That was three days ago, and since then, our world’s gotten even more fucked up.  _

 

Loathing, depression and anxiety were her best friends ever since her dad died and Max left. Rachel helped her quell them, but now she was gone, too, and her mind ran rampant, destructive circles around her. It was so exhausting. So, so exhausting to live, to be, to breathe. But she couldn’t quit, Chloe had one last job, one last plea from Rachel. After that was done though…

She continued to resent herself, drink rum from a rapidly emptying bottle and listen to music. The booze started to take effect and she felt drunken tiredness wash over her. Chloe closed her eyes again and drifted off to dreamless sleep.

She awoke when her phone buzzed. Groggily, she opened her eyes and fumbled around until she felt her phone in her hand. Chloe brought it up to her face and squinted at the brightness of the screen. One A.M.  _ Fuck, I’ve been out for five hours? _ She grumbled something incomprehensible to herself and sat up. She squinted at the screen again to see who texted her at this ungodly hour. Her face fell after she saw the message.

 

**[Maximum Bitch]**

**[Hey. Can we talk? I’m so, so sorry.]**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:  
> So I think I need to explain a bit; my understanding of Chloe is, that she's WAY too chill about Max leaving her in the game. So I upped her aggressiveness. Now she behaves like a young woman whose life was a shit show for five years.
> 
> My version of Kate is much more self-confident. I changed the timeline, the party on which she does get drugged has not happened, so Kate doesn't get bullied as much as in the game. Also, she's mischievous here; in the game, Kate is not, however, she aids Max break into Nathan's room, so make of that what you will.


	4. Bonds

**Bonds**

* * *

 

**[Maximum Bitch]**

**[Chloe?]**

 

Chloe ignored Max. Her phone rang a couple of times over a few of minutes, but Chloe just shut down her phone, shoved it to the end of her bed and went back to sleep.

It was easier than she thought. Ignoring Max, that is. It was supremely easy. Just turn off your phone toss it aside and continue with whatever the shit you're doing. In Chloe's case, sleeping the sleep of the drunk. 

 

She awoke to knocks on her door. Bright, energising morning sun was pouring into her room, and she could hear birds tweet and a car pass by. Groggily Chloe pushed herself up on her elbows. There was no feeling of motion sickness washing over her, neither was she greeted by a pounding headache.

 

No hangover, good. Another knock came down on her door, a bit more forceful. Chloe yawned loudly, stretched and turned on her phone again. Max had written her a couple more times, the latest one at seven thirty, but Chloe didn't think of reading let alone answering her messages, for now at least. She still remembered their encounter at the lighthouse yesterday. Honestly, she did feel kind of bad about it. But she didn't want too admit it. Chloe scratched her stomach while flicking through social media and checking the news. 

The clock on her phone sprung to 9.30 in the morning when yet another knock against her door came. This time it was accompanied by a voice calling her through her door. Chloe's mother Joyce. She was up early, as usual. Today was… Tuesday? Which meant she was working the afternoon hours over at the Two Whales. So Chloe would be home alone with David. Fan-fucking-tastic.

 

“Chloe, get up lazy bones. Breakfast’s ready. Hurry it up before your bacon gets all soft again.” 

Even though Chloe was in no mood to see her mother this early in the morning, it was free breakfast. She could go back to bed later anyway.

Step-douche wasn't here at this time of day anymore, thank fuck. He already was on campus until afternoon. Maybe Chloe would be able to have a somewhat normal conversation with her mother.

Scratching her scalp, the blue-haired girl got up and stretched again, making her joints pop. She switched into more comfortable clothes; she'd fallen asleep in her street dress. Skin tight jeans weren't desperately comfortable to wear for hours on end. Chloe suppressed a yawn, left her room, turned left and stomped down the stairs. 

She followed the delicious smell of bacon into the living room, scanning the room for the source of the aroma. However, after entering the living room and letting her eyes slide over the area, she instantly lost all appetite. 

_ You have to be  _ **_shitting_ ** _ me. I mean I overdid it, but she's asking for it. _

Chloe was about to stomp into the room with fury in her eyes, but Joyce cut her off with an uncharacteristically strong, self-confident voice and stepped into her way, forcing Chloe to a halt.

“Chloe Elizabeth Price, you  _ will _ sit your ass down and at least listen to her. If not, I'm cutting your allowance. You have no job so you rely on me for cigs, gas and, sadly, Booze. So sit down and be civil for once - in months.”

She shot her mother a furious, long look but compiled. Chloe strode over to the table and plopped down onto her usual chair. She leaned forward onto the surface and took up as much space as possible to give herself more presence, attempting to be as threatening as possible. With a low voice, icy voice she spoke up.

“Why Hello again, Maxine. Pity I didn’t break your jaw yesterday. If I did, I wouldn’t need to listen to your horseshit. I repeat my question from the day before. What the fuck do you you want, bi-” 

“Chloe! Shut the hell up for one goddamn time! Do you know how brave it was of her to come here?”, Joyce cut up with as much authority as possible. Chloe was dumbfounded and sneered -she wasn’t used to being interrupted- and was silent for a long second, but eventually figuratively and literally swallowed her insults. Low-key, fighting her mother wasn’t something she liked to do, even if she often did. When it was clear that she wouldn’t be interrupted, Joyce continued to speak in a much softer voice.

“Thank you. As I was saying, Max here showed bravery and came into the lion’s den. Heavens know I’dn’t’ve done that. She’s here to say sorry, so please, Chloe, stop being such an aggressive girl for once. Five minutes is all she’s asking for.” Joyce turned her head towards her unlikely guest before speaking again. “However, Max? Don’t  **ever** pull shit like that again, y’hear? I’m angry with you, too. You were gone when Chloe needed you the most. I still have to pick a bone with you.”

 

Chloe tossed a hand in the air, leaned back a bit and grabbed the cup o’ joe next to her - she always sat at that place so Joyce usually placed some coffee there. Even with the hot, bitter liquid calming her nerves, she glared daggers at the girl opposite her. Max looked at her nervously and shot Joyce a grateful glance for defusing the situation even though she wasn’t off the hook. She wasn’t sure if she should give Chloe a friendly smile or something else. She slumped in her chair, her short brown hair covering much of her face. She fidgeted about, changing positions every so often to get comfortable but didn’t quite seem to get it. She sighed, slumped back into her previous position and started speaking. 

“Hey, Chloe. Ahm, I don’t quite know where to start. Honestly, I just came here to say I’m sorry. Really, really sorry. Everything you said yesterday, you’re right. I was a miserable friend-” Chloe sneered at Max’s usage of the word ‘friend’ to describe their relationship “-but I’m back now and I sort of want us to reconcile. I know I fucked up  _ big _ time, and don’t have any illusions about all of a sudden being your best friend again, or even your friend, but I don’t want you as an enemy. I don’t want to be uneasy around you every time I might see you in town. You were fucking scary yesterday and I don’t want that.” 

Max took a deep breath before continuing, looking Chloe square in the eye.

“I fucking missed you. Do you have any idea how mad I was at my parents for dragging me away from here? It sucked ass. And Seattle… it’s a big city and I’m a small town girl. I didn’t fit in. School was shit, my friendships were shallow and I just wanted to get back here. So when I had the chance to get into Blackwell, I worked my ass off and managed to do it. And, well, here I am now. So please, give me another chance.”

 

With that, Max fell silent and waited for a reaction. Chloe wasn’t sure what to feel, a hundred reactions shot through her head. She still was very,  _ very _ angry at Max for simply fucking off to Seattle. She also felt - very reluctant - pity for Max; it must’ve been shit for her, too. Chloe also felt some satisfaction to get the proper excuse she was waiting for for years. What most annoyed her, though, was that Chloe now felt real guilt for being that huge a bitch the day before. She was in shock, most likely. Her eyes continued to drill into Max’s who, for once, didn’t budge. Max’s brown held Chloe’s blue firmly. 

_ She's grown up, eh? _

Finally, Chloe turned her head away and sighed heavily, while she tore off her beanie and scratched her head feverishly.

 

“... Fine! Try to redeem yourself. At least you don’t think we’re all buddy-buddy again. You pissed me off  _ majorly _ . But answer me one question - why did you just broke off our communication? Like, not a fucking text in over four years, not one letter or birthday card or anything like that. It’s really hard to believe that you missed me when you didn’t make an effort.” 

Chloe fished out her spare pack of cigs, lit one and leaned back. She looked at Max expectantly, when she remembered something. 

“By the way, sorry for the cig-flick, that was... a bit much. ‘t least you have no burn mark.”, she mumbled. 

A long moment passed and Chloe couldn’t help but snark to cover the uneasy silence. “Amazing answer to my question I’m getting.”

 

Max sighed. “Yeah, I know. It’s not that I forgot about you. So much stuff was going on for the first few months, with all the schoolwork and the new city and my new friends. I wanted to write you more than half-assed answers, but seconds turned into minutes and minutes into hours. Hours turned into days and before I knew it I forgot to text you back. And you stopped texting me too. Don’t get me wrong, I can relate and understand that you think I forgot about you. But believe me, I never did.” 

 

Chloe took a heavy pull from her cigarette and puffed out a huge cloud of grey-blueish smog before speaking up again. “I’ll never not feel betrayed, you’re aware of that? With dad dying and mom hooking up with step-dick, I needed you more than ever. Even though you're here now, and even if we become friends again, I’ll hold that grudge for a very,  _ very _ long time. But one more question - if you were here for a month already, how come you never stopped by? Aside from now, obviously.”

Max couldn’t help but cock an eyebrow at Chloe. “I guess I was scared you’d flip your shit? You did yesterday and I imagine it would’ve been worse if I just waltzed up to your front door to talk to you.”

 

Chloe sheepishly murmured something along the lines of “I guess I woulda”. Silence fell over the table, neither Max nor Chloe were sure what to say or if they should say anything at all. Thankfully, Joyce broke the silence, stepped forward and put a hand on each girl's shoulder, a smile in her voice.

“I think you made great progress. In proud of you, both. Now, stand up like the adults you both are and shake hands. Yes Chloe, you can look at me all you want, but please do it.”

 

Feeling oddly cooperative, she followed her mother's wish. Max did, too. They stood and hesitated, but Max was the first to make a move and stretched out her hand, a exhausted smile on her face. That talk was the single most toughest thing she ever had to do.

“So, we cool?”, she asked in a lame attempt at a Bruce Willis impersonation.

For a second, Chloe hesitated. She still felt so, so wronged, but for once it was time to act like a grown up. Also, Max tried to get a Pulp Fiction reference going and she couldn't let that slide.

“Yeah, we cool,” Chloe retorted in an even lamer Ving Rhames-like voice. She took Max's hand, gave it a short, reaffirming shake and let go. She even managed a small smile. “So, what now?”

Max looked at the watch mounted on top of the Price's kitchen counters. Not long until ten o'clock. Max pulled out her phone and checked her calendar. Her first classes of the day was history and started at quarter to eleven. A weird time, to be sure. 

“I have to get back to Blackwell. History’s coming up. No clue why, but Mr. Ford has a hard-on for old Romans.”

 

Chloe let her smile grow. She remembered Ford, he really had been a pain in the ass when she still went to Blackwell. Chloe was watching Max snatch her bag, sling it across her shoulder and head for the door. Max put on her shoes, worn-out chucks (befitting a hipster like her) and waved at the two women, still sitting in the living room. Before she left, though, Chloe called out, taken by a sudden impulse. She's had a lot of those recently. The therapeut her mother had dragged her to, once a week (in theory), was sure she had some sort of impulse control disorder. Not that Chloe would give two shits.

 

“Wait!” she jogged down the hall until she came to a halt a feet away from a surprised looking Max. She snatched her keys from a nearby hook, shove past Max and opened the door.

“I’mma take you. Let's roll, hippie.”

Before Max could react, Chloe was already out of her house and hurried towards a beaten up truck. The brown haired girl shook her head in confusion.

 

**xXxXx**

 

“And yeah, Chloe brought me to school in her truck. We caught up on a lot of what we missed and that's that”, Max recalled after taking a sip of her tea. 

She and Kate were sitting in their favourite tea shop and discussing the events of the day. The shop was quiet, except from some ambiente-music, the chatting of the baristas and the occasional ‘thank you, come again!’.

 

Max set down her cup and looked at Kate who returned her glance with a mix of happiness and worry.

“That sounds great and all…

_ I can smell that but coming from a mile away. _ Max thought to herself 

“...but…” 

_ Called it. _

“... Please do be careful. I'm happy for you to have reconnected with Chloe, but as your friend, I'm worried that you might get hurt.”

 

Max smiled gratefully - it was nice that someone was concerned for her well being- stretched out her hand, laid it atop of Kate's and have it a short squeeze before she wrapped it around her cup again.

 

“Thanks, Katie. But I'll be fine. I just don't have to leave town again and Chloe and I will be cool.”

Kate sighed. “I really hope you will be. Just don't get your hopes up too much that it'll be like it used to be when you were kids, alright? You've been away for five years, so you should not expect a tearful hug at the lighthouse in the foreseeable future.” 

She was serious, Max could tell as much.

 

“I won't. I'm not that idealistic, Kate. It's just nice to know that Chloe is back in my life. I'm really grateful for your concern, but believe me, I'll be fine. If you ever meet Chloe, you'll like her.” 

Max took a big gulp of her tea, finishing the cup. She checked her watch and saw that it was nearly six in the evening. She sighed and pulled out her porte-monnaie from her hoodie.

“Let's head back to Blackwell soon. I still got stuff to do.”

Kate nodded. “Wait for me, I'll join you. Say, since you mentioned it, want to do homework together? We can study in your room?”

“Sure. Makes it less of a pain in the ass.” Max smiled at Kate, turned away and tried to catch an employee to pay. Finally, a barista came over and they paid for their orders. Max washed for Kate to finish. When she did, they left.

The ride back to school was uneventful and the girls spent it in comfortable silence. Kate was reading Milton's  _ Paradise Lost  _ while Max was enjoying some Indie-Rock. She'd grown to like it in Seattle. The sometimes calm and soothing, sometimes wild and energetic tunes had become part of her life.

 

Max looked outside the bus window. Sun was setting and bathed the town in a golden light. Arcadia Bay could look so peaceful. Max noticed that the waves were a bit harsher than usually. She didn't think much of it and the few surfers out in the ocean at this hour certainly wouldn't mind, either.

 

As Max was about to turn her look back inside, she glanced at her own reflection for a second. She threw herself a smile, she'd earned it. After all, she faced one of her fears and got away quite well.

 

Around half an hour after they had entered, the bus stopped right in front of campus. They got off and were chatting while they headed for their dorm. On campus, they passed Courtney and Victoria who were trying to convince people to sign up for their next party. Even if they had noticed Max and Kate, they didn't approach them, so they walked on and planned their approach to their homework.

 

On their way home, in quite a dark corner, Max spotted Madsen who was discussing things with Nathan in a very… energetic manner. 

Kate noticed it, too, and their conversation died down. Max and her companion shared an uneasy glance - they didn't like the looks of it. The memory of their encounter with that hardass head of security was still fresh in their minds and he seemed to be very aggravated from the way he tried to corner Nathan.

When the girls passed the two of them, Madsen sneered at Kate and followed her with his eyes for an unbearably long moment, but he returned his attention to Prescott. Nathan seemingly was torn between anger, fear and frustration, judging from his posture and what little reached their ears. Something about drugs, the Vortex Club and his family.

Again, talk was about drugs. Something fishy was going on in Blackwell.

 

Max grabbed Kate's hand while walking and gave her an assuring squeeze, nothing was going to happen to her. She threw a glance backwards. Nathan Prescott was an asshole, 

They reached the dorm (thankfully without an encounter with Queen Vitch), entered the dorm and headed for the second floor, where their rooms were. 

The stairway was silent, but as soon as they opened the door to and passed through the halls, they heard music blaring from behind closed doors and laughter from others. Everything was ordinary, until Max unlocked and entered her room.

She entered, but felt something wasn't right. Max started to look around, trying to find the source of the atmosphere in the room. When she didn't find anything and was about to let it be, she turned around, but stopped dead in get tracks and looked around, flabbergasted.

Her selfie-wall was in disarray, but bright red text on some free space boldly read  _ KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT, BITCH!. _

That itself would've been vile enough, but on her bed lay a turn up picture. A selfie she'd taken and thought about entering Mr Jefferson's contest with. Max had, in a fit of doubt, torn it apart. In the bathroom. Where she saw Nathan with his gun, rambling to himself.

Kate shoved past her frozen-in-place friend and saw the chaos and threat too. She sucked in air through her teeth, but reached out, placed a hand of Max's shoulder and waited for a reaction, unsure what to do.

 

The photographer stumbled over to her couch, fell down onto it and dug out her phone with shaking hands. She'd never gotten a threat before, and especially not one from a psychotic peer. 

Max snapped a picture and a short explanation and sent it to Chloe - she'd know what to do, she was used to fucked up shit. Max didn't tell her about the torn up selfie though.

A minute later came Chloe's reply.

 

**[Chloe]**

**[What the fuck? R u alright?]**

 

Honestly, Max didn't know. There was a feeling in her stomach, a feeling of unease that she couldn't shake, not even when Kate gingerly sat down next to her and lay her arm around Max's shoulder in a soothing manner. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfiction in forever. I really hope it's at least a bit entertaining and that the characters are in character.


End file.
